


Dinner First

by digitalduckie



Series: Falloutverse: The Man in Black [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Threats of Violence, Verbal Humiliation, mention of slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalduckie/pseuds/digitalduckie
Summary: The awkward and frustrating dance that leads to "R and R".





	1. Dinner First

"That's it?" Royce was disappointed. Surely there was far more useful information in those books. At the very least he had hoped that Redeye would have gleaned a deeper volume of material to work with.

"Hey, I always wondered how that Travis kid was doin it. It makes so much sense to just put in a holotape." The raider's enthusiasm for finally understanding his equipment was perhaps charming for anyone else. He had been so excited that the entire park had been treated to playbacks of just about any holotapes he could get his hands on. Most obnoxious were the ones not intended for strictly audio output, such as the video games, and worst were the audio logs of some of the victims of the Gauntlet. When those first came on the air, more than a few raiders went on alert to some sort of attack.

"Russell." Royce was blinking dryly as Redeye was giving him the run down of how it worked, completely lost in his own enthusiasm. "Russell." When the second attempt at getting his attention didn't work, Royce finally took a stack of several books and dropped them to the floor.

"Whoa, hey! You're lucky I ain't on the air!" Redeye frowned though clearly believed the mess to be accidental as he began to pick the books back up.

"In more ways than one... Russell, to say I expected more is, well, it's not an understatement exactly."

"Look, I'm reading these books you got me-"

"Yes, we're both aware of how much you seem to be enjoying them." The statement flushed Redeye's entire face and while he obviously would like to have forgotten that particular incident, Royce was unafraid to use it against him. Really he had seen the whole ordeal as encouraging in a manner. A stretch of a manner.

"I told you it wasn't like that!" Redeye doth protest too much. It was always too easy to get him riled up and Royce found himself enjoying it as a game as much as a point driver.

"It's okay, Russell. Everyone has their methods for focusing. Some more private than others. But the point of the matter remains: if you don't find a way to make something useful for me out of this pile of junk," he swept an arm about to indicate all of the broadcasting equipment that filled up the majority of what Redeye called his home, "then it is going to the dump and you just might join it." Royce stood from his seat on the sound board desk and made his exit. He knew what was coming next would likely be a temper tantrum far from admirable, but then he had that effect on people sometimes.

What wasn't entirely expected was what exactly he heard after he had stepped through the door and was out of sight. Obscenities were not uncommon, even strung together. But a more propositional sort of insult such as the, "Suck my dick!", that Redeye grumbled was unique. At least coming from him.

Royce paused in consideration. Then he turned on his heel and appeared back in Redeye's doorway, startling him in the process.

"Usually I don't make a requirement of this, but in your case I'm going to insist: Dinner first." Redeye sat speechless, slack jaw in stark contrast to Royce's own nonchalance. When he took his leave for good, there were no protests or exclamations. He would have to be sure to set the table for one more tonight.


	2. No Manners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Royce gets stood up.

The table of choice left Royce with mixed feelings. It was a remnant, he assumed, of the Grille's attempt at a higher class dining experience that was meant to cater to a more exclusive customer than the vinyl covered booths circling the bar. It fell short of truly being high end and sat squarely in what he would assume had been middle class, a mimicry of expensive taste but without the genuine polish. Still it was the best the park had to offer until he could have something brought in and either way it sounded just as droll when he drummed his fingers against it as the slave that served as his personal cook began to serve the dishes.

As he came about the third setting, Royce waved him off. "No, don't bother. Find one of the dogs and give it a treat." The slave hesitated before nodding and carried the plate off out of sight.

"We can send for him if you really want, Boss." Gage was not an infrequent dinner guest as the two often discussed the parks over their meal. A perk to being the right hand man and theoretically a far second in command.

"Hardly. Russell is responsible for his own appointments. I've held his hand more than enough as it is. If he does not have the courtesy to be on time for dinner, then I will not have the courtesy to remind him of it."

"Fair enough."

"More than." Royce wondered just exactly how many more let downs he could tolerate from Redeye, tapping a finger to his lips as his food went untouched. "I've killed for less. And it was his idea in the first place, anyway."

"Uh huh." Bless his heart, Gage hadn't the manners to wait on Royce to start eating before he began on his own plate. At least he was here on time.

"He really should be flattered I accepted. Honored, even." Royce finally began to cut into his steak as he thought out loud. "It's not like I take just anyone's company. I mean, look at you."

"I'm honored, Boss, truly."

"Yes, you're well behaved like that, but I do need you to lighten up a bit, Gage. Gauge... as in to measure, right?" Royce shook his knife in the raider's direction.

"It's spelled different, but I suppose."

"How fitting. You could say that I need everyone around here to measure up to, at the very least, your standard." Royce smiled, humored and grateful to be steering himself away from brooding over someone as inept as a lowly self-appointed radio jockey. "I'll make sure to remind everyone what's expected of them."

"Sounds like a plan, Boss. You just let me know what you need."

That's when Royce realized he'd forgotten to bless the meal. Damn.


	3. Wakey Wakey, Eggs and You F*cked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't stand Royce Martin up.

As generous as the knocking on his door was, especially as most folks didn't even bother, Redeye struggled to stir from his slumber. By the time he got his eyes open, his visitors had already let themselves in and were stepping over his mattress to cross the room, tracking mud in the process.

"That one on the wall, there. With the slot, yes. Oh no, really, you ought to use some screwdrivers or something other than crowbars." Royce stood just inside the doorway, supervising the two Pack members as they struggled with some of Redeye's equipment. It took him what felt like an eternity to process what exactly they were trying to do.

"Huh? Whoa! Hold up! Hold the-" tangled in his blanket, Redeye fell to the floor before springing back up. "Hold the fuck up! What's goin on?"

"Good morning, Russell. It's nice of you to join us." Hardly a glance was given, focus instead kept on the duo with their crowbars wedged between the playback deck and the rack it was held in.

"Boss!" Redeye hissed, leaning in closer to Royce and smartly determining that his best course of action was to plead his case directly to the man in charge, rather than attempting to take the brutes on. "What the hell gives? I thought you said I had some more time?"

"Mm, no, I did." Royce nodded, hands on hips. "But you see, sometimes people change their minds. Decide to take their plans in different directions. And last night, I changed my mind."

"W-What?" It was so sudden that Redeye felt he was being punished for something. Probably for telling Royce to suck it. Colter had never been such a nightmare as this guy. "At least give me some warning!"

A broad, successful smile spread across Royce's face as the deck finally came loose, screws stripping from the rack and the casing scratched and dented from the force. "Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule, Russell? Fellas?" He searched between the three raiders though none of them answered. "Well, it's actually kind of some bullshit feel good thing about treating others how you want to be treated. It's a way of deflecting blame from yourself and onto others because as long as you're nice, they have no excuse for being, well, big fat doo-doo heads."

One of the Pack members actually raised an eyebrow while the other snickered. "Er, what do you want us to do with this?"

"I'm not done." Royce held up his finger to silence the man before turning back to Redeye and lowering his voice. "I'm not giving you the gift of any warning in regards to changing my mind because you cannot seem to do the same for yourself. See, I don't actually give a shit about what you want to do, but what you intend to do, especially when I'm involved, does matter. A great deal. Do not waste my time, Russell." And with that, he waved the two men out the door, slamming it behind and leaving Redeye one piece of equipment less than he already had.


	4. The Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redeye tries to start an uprising.

The marketplace of Nuka World was hardly bustling. It was difficult to do business with raiders as they so rarely cared for fair exchanges of currency for goods which made it all the more curious that any of them would ever have an obsession with amounting large sums of caps. Everyone had their bag, however, and on some abstract level, it made perfect sense to Redeye. Despite the fact, he found himself fidgeting in the shadows of one corner, and hoping he seemed casual enough.

"Psst." His target either ignored him or hadn't heard him, so he tried again. "Pssst!"

Finally, Gage looked up from his perusing for the source of the sound only to see Redeye waving him in. He checked his surroundings before pointing to himself for confirmation which he received with a fervent nod. Perhaps it was the cumbersome armor he always wore, but he seemed to lack the subtle approach that Redeye had been hoping for.

"What is it, Redeye?"

"Oh, not much. Just a couple of raiders talking, right?" A blank stare. "Does the Boss seem a little, uh, overboard to you?"

"No." It was so immensely blunt and without hesitation that Redeye began to wonder if maybe he was the only one with a lick of sense lately.

"H-He took my play deck!" Redeye hesitated, lowering his voice as another raider walked by. "Just had a couple of Pack goons pry it right out!"

"A real tyrant." Gage nodded, arms folded across his torso.

"I mean, you heard, right? It's not like I'm not doing everything he's told me to! How many hoops does a guy have to jump through in this place? Colter didn't do shit but at least he didn't take stuff from us, too!" Maybe it was an attempt to incite treason, the start of an uprising. It could very easily get him killed and he was taking a huge risk talking to Gage of all people about it. But if anyone could get the ball rolling on such a thing, to actually take out the Overboss for a clean slate, he was it.

"Three things, Redeye."

"Sure, okay." He prepared himself to take mental notes on what they had to do to make this work.

"One: You're lucky he doesn't just kill you." Not a very good start.

"Two: Maybe you should just apologize for missing dinner."

"What?"

"Three: I don't like playing messenger, or matchmaker, so I'm not doing this again." And with that, he returned to his shopping.


	5. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts soothe over any argument, right?

"It is almost impressive just how much of this crap they kept in this place. It's been two centuries since they blew the world to bits and no one has managed to drink all of this? Or dump it out?" Royce shook his head in disbelief at the number of crates that were stacking up in a makeshift assembly, or rather, disassembly line on the east side of Fizztop Mountain. They would relocate the venture just as soon as they could, but for now it would prove the central hub.

"A lot of the crew is tired of it, too." Gage admitted, an acknowledgement that the sheer volume of sugary soft drink available was an issue, both in regards to clutter as well as the health and hygiene, the very well being, of everyone now under Royce's employment.

"Well, no one has to drink it. In fact, I'd rather they not of course. It's disgusting what that shit will do to your teeth, to say nothing of the acute radiation poisoning." Of course consuming just about anything at all these days would add a tick or two to any Geiger counter and that was simply the way of life now.

"We'll empty all the bottles into kegs but we're still going to have to store them."

"Of course. The park has plenty of storage for this sort of thing, however. I'm not worried about that. Just make sure that no one is helping themselves to a few extra caps here and there as they pull them."

"Sure thing, Boss. Er-" He pointed to a figure Royce knew full well was waiting, rocking back and forth on his heels in a poor attempt to look patient.

"I'm aware."

"I'm not one to meddle in personal affairs, but I don't exactly recommend letting this sort of thing interfere with the business at hand. If I might."

"Yes, see Gage, that's exactly the sort of thing I expect from you of all people. The very thing I need if you anticipate a deep involvement with this venture. An investment of your own opinions and not just strictly kissing my ass. I know you're good for it so don't ever be afraid to let me know what's on your mind." Royce gave him a playful smack on the arm with his fist which earned him a funny look in return. Good.

"I trust you to keep this in line." With a wave to the un-bottling process and a nod in response, Royce turned and approached the man he'd left waiting for some time now. "Was there something you needed, Russell?"

The dirt scuffled under his feet and he rolled his shoulders in an attempt at looking relaxed. On one hand it should be flattering to think he drew anxiety up in anyone, even just for a conversation. On the other hand, it was weak. And if he had a third hand, he may have given Redeye credit for being present despite that anxiety, a bravery and strength of its own and maybe a sign that he was capable of performing under pressure.

"Yeah, I just... had something for ya." He pulled his hands from behind his back and presented not one, not two, but a grand total of five caps in one hand and a rusty machete in the other. It was so laughable that Royce found that all ability to do just that had left him.

"What is this?"

"An apology!" Indignant to what was obvious. A reaction that played to what it was that Royce must have liked about the songster. He was easy to humiliate and drag through the mud because, whether he realized it or not, he was eager to please. It fed Royce's ego and reminded him of Dean. More boisterous and less directly open to enlightenment, but pliable nonetheless.

"Five caps," which Royce took, "and an old piece of shit machete that would give anyone tetanus just looking at it."

"It's the closest thing to a knife that was in stock."

"Uh huh." Royce reached up and behind Redeye's neck, causing him to take half a step back before accepting having his bandana removed. With the cloth acting as a barrier, Royce gingerly took the machete from Redeye's hand as well and gave a nod. "Well, I suppose I could accept your attempt at an apology and in fact, I will. I will be generous, even, and give you a second chance to make good on your original offer. If you are not at the table by seven tonight, I may just give this 'apology' a little test-drive."


	6. Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Royce spells out the terms and conditions.

Seeing as the meal was a second attempt and that Royce was growing ever less fond of the mediocre table, his dinner with Redeye was to be served in a booth by the windows of the Fizztop Grille, overlooking the parks. They had been here before, discussing the radio station and their trip to the library in town. Those moments, however, were strictly business. In those moments, he was the Overboss and Redeye was the lackey. Now, however, they were Royce and Russell.

Redeye had been pleasantly early and Royce was more than hospitable, offering him his seat and even a drink to have while they waited on their food. In the background music played softly, courtesy of the deck he had pried from Redeye's station, and in his shirt pocket, neatly folded and on display, was Redeye's bandana. Everything a pointed reminder that this visit was personal but he was always in charge.

"You know I don't care much for small talk like how your day went." Royce slid into the booth, sitting mostly sideways with one leg crossed over the other at the knee. "I know how your day went. It went fucking fantastic because you're about to get a good meal and maybe even laid. And I only say maybe because there's a chance you either fuck it up or just say no."

"I didn't know you really meant it." Redeye confessed after a cringing swig of his drink.

"I figured I had been very clear. You made an offer and I countered."

"I-" Hesitation brought on by some warning signs in his head that advised him to be careful what he chose to say. "Yeah."

"The offer does still stand, correct? You did apologize and you showed up, on time." Royce casually pulled an ashtray across the table before tapping his cigarette into it. He was aware he seemed to be talking to the air around him.

"Well, hell yeah." A wise man who knew a lucky chance when he got one. "You're an asshole but-" A wise man who lived only long enough to stop himself in his tracks.

"It's okay, I know what I am. I don't pretend you think any less of me, Russell. That you're here to fuck me because you actually like me and not just because you like sex. Or being close to positions of power. Or both. Most likely both."

"It's not like you like me." An accusation and a heartbreaking level of low confidence. To boost it would be a risk at starting something Royce wanted to clearly divide from this rendezvous.

"Not really, no. I like what I can get out of you, if I can get it out of you, but that's it." Honesty was key here and it brought Royce around to the business end of their exchange. He turned to more fully face Redeye and held up four fingers. "Before we fuck, there are four things you need to understand and agree to."

"Okay."

"No, dumbass. Listen to them first. One: No means no and stop means stop. There are no 'safety words'. And that goes both ways. Two: We will be using a condom or there will be no sex at all."

"Well, shit. It ain't like I can knock-"

"No, you can't. I took care of that a long time ago but we'll get to that shortly. More importantly, the condom is because fuck knows where you've put your dick and like hell I need syphilis making me crazy or some shit."

"Right... okay."

"I mean it, Russell." Royce frowned. "If you don't want to accept that fact, we can stop right now and just have a nice meal."

"No! No it's okay. I got it." Redeye sat up straighter in an attempt to express his sincerity. He wasn't backing down from the opportunity and it got Royce to smirk again.

"Three: I am trans. I don't have a dick, at least not in the same way you do. What I do have I'll be more than happy to use if that's what you want." Redeye attempted to nod discreetly as their food was delivered to the table. Royce on the other hand didn't care who knew. The help, his employees, total strangers... maybe it wasn't their business but it also didn't make him either less of a man nor less capable. He had no shame in it but he put it up front on the table to avoid wasting his time with partners that took offense to the matter.

"And lastly, this is the most important by the way. This is strictly fucking. I will never love you. Ever. Not even a little bit. I don't give a damn what happens on your end, but you must accept it will never be reciprocated. Returned in favor, that is. You will always only be worth what you can do for me. Capisce?" This stipulation was received with a toothy grin all his own.

"That's fine by me, Boss."

"Good. But first, let's eat." Royce raised his glass.


	7. The First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two get down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not explicit, but if you would rather skip any smut, hit the next chapter.

“Stop, stop, stop-” Redeye pleaded, his breath constructed of pants that came in quick succession after a momentary silence. He gripped Royce’s thigh tightly before pushing against him and urging him off. As was the agreement, Royce complied with ceasing his motions albeit with mild frustration.

“Is there something wrong?” He shouldn’t have been surprised that sex with the other man would have been short and unsatisfactory. While he followed directions and had enthusiasm, Royce had only been riding him for a few brief moments before he was tapping out.

“No. No, everything is great.” The struggle to catch his breath was evident and Redeye rolled his head back against the pillow with his eyes shut.

“Then why stop?”

“I just… need a moment.”

“A moment? As in a break?” Royce frowned. “I need you to be clearer, Russell.”

“Yeah, a break! Just let me catch up.”

“I’m going to dry up if we wait too long.” Already the fire in his belly was fading, his body faintly aching with a lack of understanding as to why he would stop in the middle of a good thing.

“Well I’m gonna blow if we don’t.” There was no shame to his voice. It wasn’t an argument about prematurity yet Royce saw no issue with the matter. Redeye could cum and they could still continue with the evening until both fully satisfied. It made no difference to him.

“So then do it.” He began to rock his hips again until the raider held him still. Redeye’s chest rose and fell in deep steady breaths, an effort to control it and perhaps shift his focus somewhere else. It was a tactic Royce knew to block out unwanted sensations until one was better equipped to handle them.

“I-I don’t want to. It’s better if I wait…” The idea struck Royce so suddenly that he could feel himself tighten with anticipation and desire. It made Redeye groan in frustration, a cue that had Royce finally dismounting and simply straddling his waist.

“Russell. Are you fond of edging?” A smirk curled the corners of his mouth and he spoke softly and with fascination. The only response he got was a lazy grin with an impressive set of bedroom eyes. He was a mess beneath Royce and yet unbelievably wholly irresistible. There was nothing Royce wanted more than to obliterate him. To consume him in his entirety and own his very being. It was a desire so strong it doubled him, bringing his mouth to the man’s neck.

They would rework their foreplay, a series of gentler caressing and explorations of each others bodies. Fingers tangled in hair and lips locked. The sensation of skin against skin as their bodies shifted. The soft supple moans of the pleasures of pacing themselves escalating to the unbearable. Royce would give Redeye just two breaks before pushing him over the brink, reaping his rewards. It was a game he would look forward to playing again.


	8. Don't Get Carried Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Royce sends Redeye off with a little advice.

“That explains your study session.” Royce teased from around his cigarette.

“Quit bringing that up! I told you it wasn’t like that!” Redeye had sat up and began pulling his pants back on. It was a miracle he could even move.

“Consider it an academic curiosity. You absentmindedly jerked it to one of those books not because you found it arousing, but because you subconsciously knew later that night-”

“Can it already!” Even from behind, Royce could tell Redeye was turning as bright as his name implied. The flush began climbing up the back of his neck and into his ears and the fact that his shirt could not conceal it was all the more satisfaction. Royce reached up and placed his hand on the back of Redeye’s neck, grip firm yet non-threatening. When the latter was clear, Redeye relaxed and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Don’t get carried away, Russell.”

“With what?”

“It’s general advice.” Royce released him and slipped out of the bed to fetch the shirt he had been wearing that evening. He was comfortable in his nudity, but it was what resided in the shirt pocket that he was after: Redeye’s signature kerchief, washed and pressed before it had been folded into a pocket square. He handed it back with a bit of a nod.

“You can have this again. Just don’t forget it next time.”

“Yeah, thanks.” An instinctive response that occupied Redeye’s mind just long enough to delay his critical thinking. “Wait, next time? You mean you wanna fuck again?” The only time he might ever appear more eager would be in the event that he’d been granted the right to broadcast his radio station once again.

“Don’t get carried away.” Royce gave him his own smile before he motioned toward the door.


End file.
